In the cold, calculating heart of Danzo Shimura, Uchiha Itachi was nothing more than a supremely effective tool, a disposable assassin who had eliminated an internal threat for Konoha.
His subsequent affiliation with the terrorist organization Akatsuki only made him more useful—a loose cannon perfectly positioned to solve problems that the Third Hokage's moral framework forbade. Setting a wolf upon a tiger was, after all, Danzo's most honed specialization. His mind, burning with a desire to prove Hiruzen's caution was cowardice, was already drafting the covert messages.
He would not move directly. He would leak carefully curated, terrifying information about a mysterious, non-native entity capable of crushing Anbu with a glance and manipulating space itself. He would describe the merchant as a threat to the very fabric of the world, a prize of immense value.
Akatsuki, eternally obsessed with gathering power and resources, would surely be tempted to investigate. If they succeeded, Konoha was rid of a threat; if they failed, the merchant would be further weakened. Danzo saw nothing but opportunity in the escalating chaos, a chaos he could then step into to claim the title of Kage as the only strong man remaining.
Shen Mo remained blissfully unconcerned with Konoha's machinations. The reactions of the world's governing powers were secondary to his two fundamental directives: ensure absolute strength and demonstrate that strength to secure commerce. Only through an image of invincibility could he prevent endless, costly conflict.
Right now, his immediate and sole focus was on Sasuke's wealth.
He followed the boy into the heart of the Uchiha compound. The atmosphere was a suffocating shroud of perpetual evening. Every shadow, every dilapidated roof tile, and every patch of weed-choked yard testified to the gruesome efficiency of the clan's end.
The air was heavy, not just with dust, but with the palpable silence of ghosts. It was impossible to expect Sasuke, who navigated this graveyard of memory, to possess the simple, unburdened optimism of a boy like Naruto.
"This way," Sasuke commanded, his voice tight and unnatural. He approached a seemingly innocuous area behind his parents' home, clearing away months of accumulated cobwebs and debris. He hadn't lived here since that night, yet he navigated the ruins of his childhood with an obsessive certainty.
The entrance wasn't visible from the outside. Sasuke pressed a series of complex seals hidden within the masonry of the outer wall, which caused a section of the ground to groan and slide away, revealing a reinforced steel trapdoor. Below, a narrow, stone staircase spiraled dozens of meters down.
This was a camera obscura—a dark room, hidden deep underground, a secret armory and vault of the Uchiha clan, secured against everything but the most specialized Konoha Root infiltration. It was clear that this vault was one of the hidden emergency repositories for their planned coup, miraculously spared from the standard Konoha looting after the massacre.
Shen Mo was genuinely surprised. He had assumed the victorious village would have completely sacked every inch of the compound.
"We are here. Everything is here," Sasuke declared, his voice echoing in the small, subterranean chamber. He swept his hand out in a wide arc, a nervous, expectant tremor in his gesture. "How much is it worth?"
Shen Mo scanned the contents, his augmented vision instantly calculating the value based on system metrics.
The vault contained:
Hard Currency & Precious Metals: Two large, iron-banded chests filled with high-purity gold bars, platinum ingots, and various denominations of Ryo, alongside boxes of valuable clan jewelry and rare gems.
Clan Assets (Knowledge): A substantial stack of tightly rolled ninjutsu and Genjutsu scrolls, some detailing advanced techniques, and, more importantly, personal combat journals detailing the experiences and insights of past Uchiha masters.
Weapons: Two large crates of high-grade, sealed weapons, including dozens of forged Katanas and specialized Shuriken.
The total value, meticulously calculated by the system, was astonishing.
"The collective worth of these assets, converted into my system's internal currency, is approximately 1,200,000 Transaction Points (TP)," Shen Mo stated calmly. "In your currency, that would be around two hundred million Ryo."
Sasuke's eyes flared with shock and a manic glee. He knew the wealth was great, but he hadn't realized its true scale. Two hundred million Ryo. An impossible, unimaginable sum for a twelve-year-old.
"The true value, however, resides primarily in these," Shen Mo continued, pointing to the stack of scrolls. "Ninjutsu scrolls and the documented experiences of powerful Uchiha figures are considered hard currency in my system. Currency can fluctuate with economic tides, but knowledge and proven skill are universally valuable. Some of these techniques, which you have not yet learned, increase the collective value due to their pristine, unutilized state."
"Then convert them all!" Sasuke barked, his voice filled with urgency. "I want to open the jars! Now!"
The scrolls were family heirlooms, the remnants of his history. But compared to the infinite power Shen Mo had shown him—the power to instantly achieve his revenge—they were worthless pieces of paper.
"As you command," Shen Mo smiled. The gold, jewels, weapons, and scrolls shimmered, vanishing as the corresponding TP value flashed across Shen Mo's internal counter. The vault was now empty save for the dust. Shen Mo's total balance had just increased by a staggering amount, strengthening his security fund considerably.
"Now, the crucial decision," Shen Mo said, his tone shifting to one of serious counsel. "You have acquired enough wealth for two hundred Tier One jars or, more strategically, a significant number of Tier Two jars, which contain far superior items. Have you decided which power series you wish to pursue?"
Sasuke, still reeling from the speed of the transaction, unexpectedly shook his head.
"I have not," he admitted, looking directly at the merchant, his immense desire forcing him to humble himself. "I do not know which skill is the strongest, or which will guarantee my vengeance the quickest. But you know. Help me choose."
Shen Mo suppressed a triumphant smile. The boy was not just a customer; he was now a willing devotee, submitting his strategic destiny to the merchant's guidance. This provided maximum control over the progression and financial throughput.
"Since you place such faith in me," Shen Mo said warmly, "I shall provide better service. Let me ask you this: what is the most prominent strength of the person you seek vengeance against?"
Sasuke paused, the name Itachi a bitter taste on his tongue.
"Taijutsu, Ninjutsu, Genjutsu... he excels at everything," Sasuke muttered, frustration bleeding into his voice. "He is fast, his Fire Style is impeccable, and his Sharingan Genjutsu is flawless. Even his strategy is perfect. I don't know what he lacks."
Sasuke's previous ambition was simply to get stronger, a vague goal. Now, under Shen Mo's strategic pressure, he realized the terrifying perfection of his foe. The man who destroyed his life was a genius with no discernible weakness—save for a secret, chronic illness unknown to Sasuke.
"He seems to be a man without gaps," Shen Mo chuckled, confirming Sasuke's assessment of Itachi's omni-competence. "If you try to match him in every area—Taijutsu, Ninjutsu, Genjutsu—you will spend decades in training, chasing a gap you can never close. This is the most expensive path."
Shen Mo leaned forward slightly, his eyes glittering with a seductive light. "To defeat perfection, you do not pursue complexity; you pursue singular, overwhelming simplicity."
He enunciated the following words slowly, letting their weight settle over the desolate tomb of the Uchiha.
"I recommend the Way of the Sword—Kendo."
Sasuke's eyes instantly sparkled, recalling the vivid image Shen Mo had projected: a man splitting the sky, a force of nature condensed into a single blade.
"The Way of the Sword is the path of killing and singular destruction," Shen Mo explained. "It teaches that a true master needs only one action. The strong possess the power to break all laws with a single, uncompromising stroke. Itachi may rely on his complex Ninjutsu, his clever Genjutsu, or his superior Taijutsu, but the sword master only needs to cut what stands before him."
"Can a sword truly break his Ninjutsu?" Sasuke asked, captivated by the pure simplicity of the concept.
"Easily," Shen Mo affirmed, his voice firm and utterly confident.
"Can illusions be broken?"
"If the demon within us can be killed, what is a simple illusion to a blade that cuts through reality itself?" Shen Mo said, cradling Himari, the picture of serene, deadly wisdom.
"I choose Kendo!" Sasuke shouted, his previous tension replaced by a manic surge of excitement. The sword promised a final, decisive answer to his chaotic rage. "Give me the jar series! I want that power!"
"Of course," Shen Mo smiled, waving his hand. Two hundred standard, unpainted, Tier One jars appeared on the ground, gleaming ominously in the underground vault's dim light. The Way of the Sword was powerful, yes, but for a sword to be powerful enough to break all laws...
It would be devastatingly expensive to upgrade. Shen Mo knew the first two hundred jars would yield only incremental improvements in strength, endurance, or perhaps a minor sword-style scroll. But it was enough to hook the boy.
"These are your first two hundred jars, purchased with your initial wealth," Shen Mo announced. "Let us see if fate favors the Avenger tonight."